what I’m allowed to do. “Let’s talk,” I tell him, motioning toward the back.
He stands, and I turn to lead him toward the office. Oscar watches us, but then Finn throws a punch he almost eats, so he’s immediately pulled back into the pretend match he has going on.
When we get into the back office, a cracked leather two-person seater that looks as if it could have originally come from a doctor’s office that went out of business awaits us. A huge steel desk sits in the middle of the room. One side neatly arranged while the other is a complete mess with paperwork and receipts strewn everywhere.
I close the door behind us. The blinds over the small window in the barrier bounce off a couple of times until they still again.
I reach up, pulling Brawler’s hood back to reveal his full face. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says.
I told myself I was going to be smart about being with each of the guys, but I’m truly a goner for all of them. The desperate look in his eyes beckons me forward. I press against him, kissing him on the lips. A soft brush at first, tentative, exploring, until my baser instincts take over. This is the guy who’s fought for me from the beginning. The one who threw caution to the wind first, despite Johnny’s public claiming, and I’ll be damned if I let him swim in turmoil over this.
He pushes me away, tearing his lips from me. “How can you even kiss me after what I did? I fucked this up. Fight you? You?” He slams his fist into the wall by my head. “I won’t.”
“You will,” I tell him. “And it’ll be okay.”
“God, I fucking hate him,” he growls.
“I don’t want to talk about that. We’ll figure out something, and even if we do have to get in the ring together, it won’t matter. I’ll pretend your punches are kisses.”
He drops his head at me, looking as if I’m completely insane. Brawler’s fists aren’t lips. That’s for damn sure. But they can have the same effect on my body. Both want to tear me apart.
“I’ll let you pummel me over and over,” I tell him, trailing my hand down his taut torso. His body locks up when I get to his hips like he wants to pull away, but he doesn’t. I explore lower, palming his hard dick through his athletic shorts. “Every hit I take will be worth it.”
He moans as I stroke him. He’s on the border of giving in despite the conflict written all over his face.
“Or maybe I’ll just let you take me out,” he says, voice betraying all the emotions he’s trying to keep back.
But he can’t do that, can he? He’s committed to the gang. I’ve had the answer in the back of my head this whole time. No one else is saying it out loud, so neither am I. Brawler has to win. There’s no point in arguing about it. He has the most to lose at this point.
I drop to my knees in front of him, and his gaze darkens. “Don’t.”
I reach up to his shorts, slowly removing them, pulling them out and around his erection as it levels in my line of sight. The sight of his cock turns me on even more. I push his shorts to the floor and inch closer, my hands reaching up the backside of his thighs. I press my fingertips there, and he jerks forward. I take him inside, moaning at the feel of him in my mouth.
“Fuck...” Brawler grinds out. He leans against the wall, peering at me with hooded eyes.
Here, I’m his. He can say he won’t hurt me, and maybe that’s what this is. A desperate need to tell him it’s okay. To tell him it doesn’t matter what happens next. We’ll still be each other’s.
I suck hard and pull back, letting him pop out of my mouth. I wrap my fingers around his base, stroking him again, eyeing the pre-cum that’s seeped out greedily. “Do you remember that day you wrote on my mirror? I saw it you know.”
I lick the salty liquid with the tip of my tongue, and he shudders.
“Fucking beautiful,” I say reverently, letting the sparks fly over my skin just like they did when I first saw his message. He had some huge balls to go against Johnny then. To tell me he’d help me get out.
He reaches down with one hand, pulling his fingers through my